


it was your turn to look at me so i let you

by we_the_hollow



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Schmoop, sugary sweet fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:05:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_the_hollow/pseuds/we_the_hollow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Universe and it's affiliates - namely a boy with green eyes - want Zayn dead. They really do. Aka the one where Harry turns Zayn into a clumsy dorky pile of mush just by looking over at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it was your turn to look at me so i let you

**Author's Note:**

> This is just pure, unwarranted Clumsy!Zayn Charming!Harry drabble with little to no plot except that maybe it could be continued. Or not. IDK.

_Be cool be cool be cool._ The thing is, Zayn Malik is tremendously _cool_. He’s calm, collected, and cool as a fucking cucumber.

Except when he’s not.

Zayn knows how to be slick, it comes naturally. He knows how to talk, that comes pretty natural too, despite being a man of few words. He prefers his _air of ethereal mystery_ as one ex- boyfriend put it. Zayn knows how to be sexy and flirt and be mysterious goddamn it he does.

Except when he doesn’t. 

The boy sat on the opposite side of the café saw to that. Slick? Headlong out the window. Talking? In English? Right on after slick. Sexy and flirty? Practically dive-bombed out of that fucking metaphorical window when the boy with the clear green eyes just looked at him. _Looked at him_ , for fucks sake. For one singular heartbeat a set of eyes the greenest Zayn has ever seen were laid upon him and just like that he fell apart.

Forget logic.

Fuck morals.

And to Hell with stranger danger.  A million curses to his career choice, also. Zayn smiled sheepishly, taking his sweet ass time to walk over to the boy with the eyes; he was trying in vain to draw out the time it took to make a complete fucking idiot of himself. Of course all that went to pot when he sidestepped a couple that were getting up to leave and ended up banging his hip on the table nearest him.

_Play it cool, play it cool._

The Universe had other plans and just when he thought he was good, Zayn stumbled on thin air. _Typical, fucking typical_ , he thought as he dusted himself off and continued to the boy with the green eyes. When he arrived at the table, the boy looked at him, a smile playing on his lips. His face was a little flushed and it couldn’t be more obvious that he had seen everything.

His eyes practically sparkled from up close and Zayn was pretty sure he was gawping. His tongue was dry. He was definitely gawping. He shut his mouth with a snap that was much too audible for his liking. He’d lost the battle before it’d even begun; this boy, _this boy with eyes like emeralds,_ would not want to associate with Zayn in way shape or form and it was all the stupid Universe’s fault.

 “Hey errrr can I have the errrmm...vanilla...oh no wait, the choc…no! Strawberry. Yeah, erm strawberry and kiwi smoothie. Cheers, mate.” The boy smiled, a little lopsided, but big and bright. Zayn gawped. Again. His life was so not fair. “You err…wanna join?”

“Oh! Oh er-well I’d lo-but I mean I shoul- and you. I have to work. Erm. Strawberry and kiwi yeah?” Was that English? Zayn was pretty sure it wasn’t.

“Yeah. Maybe later, Zayn?” Harry craned his neck to check out Zayn’s nametag or maybe his collarbones or his jawline or the stain on his shirt collar. Zayn didn’t give a fuck because _shit._ This boy was looking at him again – like, directly, like their eyes were magnets and they just stayed on each other - and he wanted to scream, only he couldn’t because he’d forgotten how to do anything other than gawp (and was that drool filling his dried out mouth?) and like, how inappropriate would that be? To outright scream in a café full of people?

He guessed at extremely.

“M-wel-y-n that’d be nice.” And of course Zayn smiled all goofy and probably too many teeth showing and tripped over his own fucking shadow, looking back at Harry every five seconds. And Harry just _looked at him._

_-_

His shift had ended and so had the world. In all the chaos of the day, Zayn had finally forgotten about the boy with the eyes.

Until he remembered.

The café was empty now, the lights dimmed down for the night, and Zayn was just counting his tips when he heard a large exhale of breath. “Are you going to keep me waiting or do I have to give you my number and rearrange this?” Zayn spun around, cursing his imbalance when he wobbled at the slow, deep, _way too fucking familiar_ teasing voice.

“I-er-what?” To say Zayn was mystified might be generous.

“You wanted to join me, didn’t you?” And _oh._ The conversation where Zayn stumbled over his non-English words and the boy with green eyes just sat there all gorgeous and charming flooded back into his head.

_“You err…wanna join?”_

_“Oh! Oh er-well I’d lo-but I mean I shoul- and you. I have to work. Erm. Strawberry and kiwi yeah?”_

_“Yeah. Maybe later, Zayn?”_

_“M-wel-y-n that’d be nice.”_

 “Oh. Err n-well-yeah. Yeah.” _Fuck you Universe and all the fucking stars and galaxies and Fate and Destiny. And also career choice. Who wants to be a fucking Starbucks waiter anyway?_

The world had definitely ended when the boy – _again, for fuck sake, really?_ – locked eyes (like magnets) with Zayn and smiled that kilowatt smile.  

“So?”

“So?” For the second time tonight _mystified_ was generous. Zayn stood behind the counter balling and unballing his sweaty palms into fists.

“Are you joining me or not?” said the boy matter of factly. He made a point to stretch his legs to push out the chair across from him.

“Right err-wh-well d’you mean like, now? _Right now?_ ” Zayn inhaled sharply and coughed. Okay so now _Nerves_ was joining in this murderous mob along with Universe and its affiliates and _the boy with the clear green eyes like magnets._

“Right now, _Zayn_.” Zayn died. He died on that spot. Or at the very least went into cardiac arrest because Green Eyes said his name and the way it just rolled off his tongue with ease and fondness and charm and that Cheshire dialect just killed Zayn. It really did. He stopped himself before he could ask how Green Eyes knew his name.

“Right.” Obviously he tripped again, walking over, and in the silence of the closed café he heard a muffled giggle. At the minute, the sole purpose of the Universe seemed to be to fuck things up for him. He resented it. Nonetheless, he took his seat and put his hands in his lap and looked at the garish coffee stained table to avoid anything that would cause his untimely demise; namely the Universe and it’s many devious ways or the boy with the green eyes who seemed to be the Universe’s secret agent or something as he too was trying his very best to kill Zayn.

“Zayn.”

“Hm?” Safety was his priority right now and non-English words were far from safe if he intended to keep his life.

“ _Zayn_. You can look at me, you know?”

“I’m not clumsy.” He blurted out. _Stupidstupidfuckingstupid._

“I didn’t say you were…” Zayn could hear the smirk, could see it in the back of his mind. His heart rate sped up.

“You were thinking it when you were… _looking_ at me today.”

“Am I not allowed to look and think things about you? Is that what you’re saying?” The sarcasm and the smirk dripped from the boys lips and again Zayn cursed. This time it was at how weak his knees felt at the confidence and the teasing. He was grateful for the white wicker seat, even if it was mildly uncomfortable. Zayn’d always been a sucker for confident people; they balanced him out. They also caused situations such as this one where Zayn begged for a hole to open up in the ground and just swallow him.  

“I’m saying you’re not allowed to look at me when I’m working because you’re fucking distracting and I make myself look like an idiot and the Universe is a murderous bastard and I hate everything and especially you with your fucking magnetic eyes.” And wow. That was English. Zayn commended himself but then immediately took it back because he’d sounded like a complete insensitive arse.

“Well you’re not working now. Can I look at you?” Of course, Green Eyes was not fazed in the slightest. Of. Fucking. Course.

“I guess.”

“I’ll look if you look.” And Zayn felt five years old again because this was a game. Apparently. _I’ll do it if you do it first._

“What?”

“I’m asking you to look at me, Zayn.”

“Oh.” For a second, Zayn lowered his head even more - if remotely possible – and closed his eyes. _Pleasepleaseplease give me a fucking chance._

Zayn opened his eyes and looked up at the boy. He startled when he realized he had his palms flat against the table leaning over it, face an inch away from Zayn’s.

“Hey…” he breathed out. Any response evaded Zayn. And then three things happened. One; the Universe gave him a chance as he stood up without injury. Two; he sat back down without injury. Three; Green Eyes leaned further into his personal space and placed a chaste kiss to the corner of Zayn’s mouth that didn’t last long enough. “Is this okay?” he asked when he pulled away, his eyes drawn to Zayn’s like magnets.

“It’s no-ye-m.” _Fuck you Universe._ “It’s more than okay.” Zayn replied, as he cupped the boys face with his thin fingers and crushed their lips into a real kiss. A real, heart stopping, breathtaking, pulse racing _kiss._  

-

The sun shone through the crack in Zayn’s curtains, and as usual, he cursed some other all powerful force for waking him before he had to. He turned away from the light and pulled the covers tighter. Or at least he would of if there were any on the bed. He opened his eyes fully and gasped when he was met with the sight of a mass of curls splayed out on the pillow and a pair of magnetic green eyes staring back at him.

“Hey…”

“H-hi,” and like the idiot he was, “where are the covers?”

“I’d been looking at you all day and you said it was your turn to look at me. So I let you.”

“But I don’t even know your name.”

“Harry.”

Finally, there was a name to the boy with the eyes and Zayn was a little disheartened. For someone so spectacular, it was a little bland. But because it was his, it was spectacular anyway. So Zayn let himself smile and let the name roll from his tongue and only hoped it was as charming and sexy as the first time Harry had said Zayn’s name.

“ _Harry_.”

Harry giggled and buried his face in Zayn’s shoulder. “Smoothie?” Zayn asked, all thoughts of malevolent forces gone from his head.

“If I wake up like this every time I have a smoothie, I want one every day.”

“Strawberry and kiwi?”

“You bet.”


End file.
